I Will
by iheartbooks4ever
Summary: WHTM sequel Lizzie and Tristan have managed to make it back home to their friends and families in District 13 as the crowned Victors of the 100th Hunger Games. All Lizzie wants to do is forget the arena and move on. The 101st Hunger Games will be here soon, and the Victory Tour is upon them.How will Lizzie handle having to mentor 2 new tributes on top of finding Mace and her father
1. Chapter 1

**Hello and Happy New Year's to all of you! What better way to kick of 2013 than with the first chapter of I Will? Haha, hope you enjoy it **** ~iheartbooks4ever**

Summary: Lizzie and Tristan have managed to make it back home to their friends and families in District 13 as the crowned Victors of the 100th Hunger Games. All Lizzie wants to do is try to forget and move on with her life.

But forgetting would mean forgetting Mace. The boy that has stolen Lizzie's heart, the problem is that Mace has not been heard from in several months, neither has Lizzie's father. While Lizzie deals with the memories and nightmares from the arena, she tries to figure out a way to rescue them both as the Victory Tour approaches.

The 101st Hunger Games will be here before she knows it, and how will Lizzie ever be able to handle having to mentor two new tributes? All these things and more trouble Lizzie.

In this sequel to What Hurts the Most, Lizzie struggles to keep her promises and bring Mace back to her.

* * *

Chapter 1: Biding My Time

_ The room is inky black; the air around me is stale and so pain-staking silent. Then, the silence is broken by awful, tortured-sounding screams. _

_ Mace. _

_ "No, no! Mace! Mace!" I try to run but I can't. I panic; why can't I move! I look down, hardly able to see three inches in front of me and I realize that I'm chained to the wall. I struggle against my bonds. Mace screams again, long and loud. The pain in his voice is pliable, it makes me shiver and break down into sobs. What are they doing to him to make him scream like that? _

_ I try to shake the awful sounds out of my head long enough for me to focus on escape. There is a heavy metal chain across my chest that connects to my ankles and to the wall behind me. I take a few deep breaths and try to stop crying. _

_ I muster what strength I have and I strain forward against the chain. I scream in frustration, then in pain as the metal digs into the skin of my collar bone. For what seems like years I cycle between shaking with sobs and trying to yank myself free of the chain. Tears run down my face in un-ending rivers as another terrible scream escapes Mace's lips. _

_ "Please! Make it stop!" I scream and I bang my head backwards against the brick wall. _

_ I feel a sharp, throbbing pain at the base of my head but it doesn't faze me, I bang my head against the wall repeatedly, my mouth open in a silent cry of pain and anguish. I feel warm wetness stream down the back of my neck, soaking my shirt. _

_ I open my eyes, and then I scream, squeezing my eyes shut and forming fists with my hands. My anger and pain pulse through the darkness, weaving into my scream. I scream until I have nothing left in me. _

_ I'm losing myself, piece by piece. _

_ I bang my head one more time against the brick wall, begging it to end my pain and suffering. One moment I feel blinding pain, then I feel myself collapse lifelessly and my eyes close for the last time._

I wake up with a scream from yet another nightmare, shaking and dripping with cold sweat. I look at the door to my bedroom, half expecting to see my mother or sister standing there, looking at me with concern.

No one is there.

They are probably so tired from the numerous sleepless nights my nightmares have caused them that they are learning to sleep through my screams.

I sit up breathing hard and I push the hair away from my face and I try to shake the nightmare. This isn't the first time I've had that dream. It's the same story every time; with Mace in danger and me, unable to reach him. Once I dreamt Mace was drowning and being ripped apart by a swarm of tiny fish in the ocean and I was swimming towards him. I swam and swam but I never got any closer.

I turn on the lamp by my bed and curl up back on the bed, trying to calm myself enough to fall back asleep. After a couple minutes I give up, knowing that there is no possible way I can fall asleep after _that._

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and quietly walk across the room to where a body-length mirror hangs on the wall. I stare blankly at the mirror, my new room's reflection in the background. We moved into the Victor's housing several weeks after we arrived back in 13. Since all the housing is underground, we didn't exactly get a Victor's "house".

From the outside, our house, #16, looks like any other apartment. On the inside, however, it's totally different. We have at least 5 times more living space then we did in apartment 512. Karissa and I have our own spacious rooms, with their own bathrooms. We have two guest rooms in addition to my mom's bedroom. A rather nice-sized kitchen, homey living room space and a fireplace complete our nice "house". And it's all mine, I think bitterly. Tristan and his family live next to us, in #15.

I put my hand on the mirror and it curls slightly at the cool temperature of the glass. I stare at my reflection; I've grown accustomed to the sight of the dark, purplish circles under my eyes. Thoughts start to pester me, thoughts that I try to ignore. Thoughts about things I try to pretend aren't really happening; like the fact it's been six months since I've heard from Mace, or my father.

Tears start to well up, but I push them back down. I am so sick of crying. Every night I go to sleep desperate, that I'll finally hear from one or both of them. So far all I've managed to see in my dreams are countless images of Mace dying, or being tortured. Cora and Karissa are the only ones who know about my contact with Mace, and the loss of that contact—I did tell Karissa eventually about our dad, and what I knew of him. We both agreed to not tell mom just yet, even though it'll be hard to keep it from her.

"Mace," I whisper as I press my forehead up against the glass and close my eyes. "I haven't forgotten about you, I will find you. I will." In two days our district will be flooded with cameras and Capitol reporters coming to film the start of the Victory Tour. Yes, the lovely Victory Tour. The Capitol so graciously placed it half-way—six months—between the Hunger Games, so just when the terrible, blood-freezing nightmares start to relent, they place this fantastic Tour in your lap for you to deal with, and it brings the nightmares back. I sigh as I think about the upcoming Victory Tour, how are Tristan and I going to survive this? More importantly how am I going to accomplish everything I want?

I have every intention of finding him on this Tour. The problem is that I don't know exactly where to find him; my best guesses are 4 and 6, hidden deep in one of the Keeper's Precincts.

Finding Mace isn't my only goal, I want to find Alyssa's brother, Calvin. I promised both Alyssa and Aleron that I would return the wooden car that was Alyssa's token to Calvin. My heart goes out to him, he's five years old and everyone in his family is dead, except for his mom, who ran off with some guys a couple years ago, so I doubt she's gonna want to take Calvin in. In my mind I try to picture what Calvin might look like, I bet he has the same eyes as his sister, I picture him a saddened, shy little boy. A little boy with shoulders sagging from all the pain this cruel world has caused him at such a young age.

I wish I could do something for him; this is something that's crossed my mind over the past six months almost as much as Mace has. One crazy little idea that's been tormenting me for months crosses my thoughts again: _You could find someone here to adopt him. _As great as an idea that seems, the Capitol would never allow it. Or would they? I _am_ a Victor now…

I resolve to talk to Terence, and Tristan, about this when Terence gets here tomorrow. The only other alternative I can think of besides finding someone to adopt him is if I helped him run away. If I could help him sneak away onto the train and find a way to keep him safe from any peacekeepers that might come after him. Surely they wouldn't notice, or even care, about one child's disappearance, I reason with myself.

Before long my thoughts circle back around to Mace. I recall vividly the last time I heard from him; six months ago, in a dream. I try to bring to mind his face, his striking black eyes and his blonde hair. It's been harder and harder to remember, I wish I could draw, and then I could draw him how I remember him, and be able to look at his face, but I cannot draw. I could ask Tristan, he would probably do it if I really wanted him to, but he wouldn't like it at all.

Tristan and I are really trying to be friends, but now awkward silences frequently plague our conversations, but we try to make the best of it. Needless to say I find myself running to Cora more than I do to Tristan these days, but more often than not, Cora is hanging out with Felix. I don't particularly fancy being a third wheel, so these days I'm usually by myself.

The one person who has been here for me since I've gotten back is Karissa, even though she could be running around with Jason somewhere, more often than not it's me she spends a majority of her time with. I'm very grateful, I feel slightly ashamed though, because I'm taking up time she could be spending with a boy who's crazy about her. But she chooses to stay by my side and listen quietly to everything I have to tell her.

I've told Karissa everything that happened in the arena. Before the Hunger Games I wouldn't have even thought about sharing any kind of terrible thing with Karissa, but now, she's the only one I have left it seems. Sometimes I worry that all of my reminisces about the Games will scare her and cause her to retreat from me, but she stays strong and is always there to hug me when I need someone to listen.

I haven't told her about my plan to go in search of Mace yet—and I don't intend too. Karissa would only try to talk me out of it. I have told her of my desires to find Calvin; she thinks that it's so brave of me to try to help him.

I think about finding Mace again, so many details are still up in the air, I don't know how I am going to do it; I just know that I have to find him.

I crave the feeling of his fingers caressing my face, and the warmth of his arms around me. My only hope is that when I find him I can set things right, and give him the chance he deserves.

I open my eyes and stare straight into the mirror, with a determined look on my face. I will find Mace, it's killing me to have wait this long, but it is almost time. Everyone else might think I've forgotten about him, the boy with the dark eyes, but I haven't, I'm just biding my time.

I step away from the mirror and I get dressed, stopping to glance at the clock; it's 3 a.m. I pull on a light jacket; then I walk through the dimly lit hall to the main elevator and take it to the ground level. A chilly breeze washes over me, even though its spring it can still be pretty chilly in the mornings. The sky is a dusty bluish-purple color, there's just enough light for me to see where I'm going. I walk down towards the school, knowing that there are a couple wooden benches nearby that will serve me well. I sit down on a bench once I arrive, and I close my eyes. I guess all of the sleepless nights must've caught up with me because the last thing I remember is watching the sky slowly become a lighter color.

"Lizzie? Lizzie!"

I wake up with a start, and for a moment I'm confused as to why I'm outside, then I notice someone standing in front of me; Tristan. I smile at him tiredly, and I note that at least an hour has passed, due to the color of the sky.

"Oh, hey… What are you doing here?" I ask tiredly, and I rub at my eyes. He chuckles and runs his fingers through his hair before sitting down next to me on the bench.

"I couldn't sleep. The nightmares were more than I could take, so I decided to go on a walk. A better question would be why the heck are you asleep on a bench? Did your mom kick you out of the house?" He asks teasingly and I elbow him, smiling.

"No you idiot." I say in an equally teasing tone, before getting more serious. "The nightmares kept me up too. They just keep coming; I feel like they are surrounding me and suffocating me, I feel like I can hardly breathe without thinking about a horrible nightmare. I needed some fresh air, so I came out here. I guess all the sleepless nights finally caught up with me," I state simply, Tristan just nods.

"Are you ready for the Victory Tour?" he asks, and I laugh darkly, as the alternative would be screaming and pulling my hair out.

"_No._" I say, and he scoffs.

"What? Are you worried the Nation will be scarred from seeing you with your lack of beauty sleep?"

"Oh yeah, because_ I'm _the one who would scar them, Mr. I-have-pointy-elf-ears." I shoot back at him, pleased that for once we seem to be getting along like we used too. A look of mock hurt crosses his face and he self-consciously reaches for his ears.

"How many times do we have to discuss this? My ears are _not _pointy! And they _definitely _don't resemble elves' ears; maybe they could look like wood nymph ears, but not elf ears." I try not to choke as I hold in my laughter.

"I know you did _not _just compare your ears to a wood nymph's. That sounds way too feminine."

"It's too early in the morning for me to think straight." He defends himself, "If it were later in the day, I would blow your mind with my amazing comebacks." I scoff at him, and he smiles. I see his green eyes shining with a joy I haven't seen in a long time.

We are both quiet. "I'm sorry I haven't been trying harder." I say quietly to him, and instantly his eyes get softer.

"It's okay Lizzie, it really is. I knew you would need time, it's not easy being without the one that you…love." He says sincerely, on impulse I scoot closer to my best friend and I hug him.

"I've missed you." I whisper as I find peace in the feeling of his arms around me.

"You'll find him, you know." Tristan says after a minute, and I pull away from him surprised.

I raise an eyebrow at him, "How did you know?" This causes him to smile,

"Oh come on Lizzie, you've been my best friend for so long, I can read you pretty well. Even though I haven't been around you lately or talked to you much about anything, I know you intend to find him." I look past Tristan to the horizon, where the sun is slowly rising, and highlighting Tristan's face with the pale morning light.

I take a deep breath and look back at Tristan, who is now watching me curiously, I know now that I can't keep this from him any longer. Slowly I begin telling him about Mace and my dad, about the dream simulations. I spare him most of the personal details about the conversation Mace and I had, but I tell him what he absolutely needs to know. I finish up by telling him about my plan to find Mace and Alyssa's brother Calvin. When I'm finished he looks at me,

"Okay," He says simply, and I proceed to stare at him open-mouthed. Okay? That's all he's going to say?

"That's it? I thought you were going to tell me I was crazy and that I shouldn't try to do it." Tristan throws his head back and laughs, I look at him bewildered. He rolls his eyes, like he's amazed he has to explain himself to me.

"Lizzie, I've known you were crazy since I found you sitting on the floor of a supply closet nine years ago. Yes, I think you're plan is crazy and stupid, but am I going to stop you? No way. Even if I wanted to I know I couldn't. If the situation was reversed, you'd do the same for me. That's what friends are for." I smile at him. I am very grateful that after all that's happened I haven't lost my best friend.

**Let me know what you think and review **


	2. Chapter 2

**I have returned from the dead! Yeah…. I'm not even going to try to explain why it took me so long to write this chapter. Hopefully after you read it, you will forgive me for my absence. I hope you enjoy, constructive criticisim and suggestions are always, ALWAYS welcome! (Sometimes I need all the help I can get **** ) ~ Enjoy!**

Chapter 2: Another Day, Another Memory

Eventually I say goodbye to Tristan and I walk back to our apartment feeling lighter than I had several hours before, since I've told Tristan about the things that were worrying me.

I close the door behind me and I make a beeline for the couch, snuggling into the fluffiness of the cushions. I close my eyes thinking that I should finally be able to catch a few hours of peaceful sleep when I hear a surprised gasp behind me. I sit up and rest my chin on the top of the couch, to the kitchen behind me. I can't resist smiling when I see my mom in her bathrobe standing next to the island counter, with one hand over her heart and a look of surprise on her face.

"My goodness Elizabeth, you scared me half to death. Why are you up and dressed this early?" I'm about to try to find a way to explain my morning walk to her, which will include telling her about yet another nightmare.

It turns out I don't have to because she changes the subject herself.

"My _word _Lizzie, did you get any sleep at all, you look like death." I cringe at her words; did she _have _to say death? My mom notices her choice of words and starts to apologize, but I interrupt her.

"I'd prefer if you didn't refer to your daughter as looking like death. I've had quite enough of that to last five lifetimes." I say dryly, looking away from her. Almost instantly I feel guilty and I apologize.

"I'm sorry mom, I'm just insanely tired. I couldn't sleep so I went on a walk, and apparently so did Tristan, so the two of us talked."

My mom smiles at me and sits on the couch next to me. I immediately scoot over and lay my head on her shoulder and scrunch myself up next to her like I used to when I was little. "Why does everything have to be so different now? All I want to do is go back to having the life I had before…everything, but every day it gets harder and harder to turn back."

My mom starts stroking my hair with her hand; I can feel the side of her face pressed against the top of my head. "Well, sweetie, you just have to take it one day at a time. It'll get easier. Right now you may only think and dream about all the bad and horrible things that happened, but later on, much later, you'll look back and find some good in it, even if it's only something small." I'm perplexed, how can I look back on something like the Hunger Games and see anything good in it? She senses my confusion and continues after a pause.

"You'll find something good, Elizabeth, trust me you will."

"Like what?" I ask, pulling away and sitting up so I can look at her.

"Well, you and Tristan came out alive, that's something," She says, taking my hand in hers. I smile slightly and look down,

"Yeah, it is." I reply after a moment. I look up at her,

"Mom," I start slowly, "Do you miss daddy?" She looks at me in surprise, her eyes saddening.

"Yes, yes I do. I wish he was here with us now, he would be so proud of you Lizzie." Proud? Proud of what? That I injured and killed people to survive?

Even though I know I shouldn't, I venture further. "Do you think he's still out there somewhere, trying to come back?" I ask softly, I hear her sigh and she squeezes my hand tightly with her own.

"I don't know. If he was still alive, he'd be home by now. Some days I imagine he's still alive and out there, and trying to come home. It's been so long now Lizzie, I don't think he will come back…We'll be okay though, we've always been okay. We'll be okay…" She says again, as if reassuring herself that she can keep our small family together. Her eyes are shining with unshed tears.

My heart aches knowing that I know my father, her husband, is alive and she doesn't even know. The idea of tell her of his survival tempts me more strongly than it's ever done so before. You don't know how many times I've had to bite my tongue to keep from spilling out everything to her since my return. Before I can stop myself I open my mouth,

"Mom, he's…" Mom looks at me curiously but I am interrupted,

"Did I miss anything?" A sleepy voice asks, and I watch Karissa walk over to us and sit down next to me on the couch. I sigh in relief, grateful for her interruption. I look at her and try to figure out if she purposely interrupted or she just happened too.

"Nope," I inform her, "Nothing at all, we were just talking."

One look from her and a raised eyebrow tells me that it was on purpose. I smile sheepishly at my sister and she rolls her eyes as I mouth the word "thanks" to her. I squeeze mom's hand once, by way of thanking her, and with that she gets up and makes us breakfast. As soon as the sound of clanging pots and the opening and closing of the fridge fills the room, Karissa scoots closer to me and punches me in the arm.

I stare at her wonderingly, (and feeling slightly annoyed) as she's never been one to hit, "What?" I ask innocently.

"You almost told her! I thought we agreed we couldn't tell her yet! You've got to be more careful!" She hisses at me. I put my hands up in surrender,

"I know, I know! I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I was talking to her about missing dad and I just felt so guilty sitting there with her going on about missing him while I knew that he's okay." Karissa just shakes her head at me,

I smile at my sister, "By the way, nice move back there. If it hadn't been for you I probably would've told her." She smiles at me and gets off the couch to bow.

"Thank you, thank you. You are too kind." She giggles. I roll my eyes and throw a pillow at her, causing her to giggle more. After we eat breakfast my mom leaves on an errand and Karissa goes to meet Jason, so it's just me.

I go to my room and pull out my sewing project. I've always been fascinated by sewing, I thought it was so cool that you can make clothes the way you want them to look like. Before I became a Victor, we really never had the money to purchase materials for me to work with, but now… Yeah, you get the idea. I find myself sewing a lot, these days. It's very peaceful, sewing is very dependable, unlike real life, all you have to do is follow the directions on the pattern and sew in a straight line. Over the past couple weeks I've been working on a new skirt and a dress for Karissa, her birthday is coincidently the same day I leave for the Victory tour, so we are celebrating tonight.

It will be a relatively small party, just us, the Hedeon's, Cora, and Felix. I smile as I finish sewing on a lace flower that I had painstakingly made before had to the bottom corner of the skirt. The skirt fabric is a pretty sea-green color; it's different from anything Karissa has. She will love it for sure, and the color will make her eyes stand out even more. I finished the dress a couple of days ago; it's a peach colored sundress with an empire waist and an A-line skirt.

I've already made Karissa several things, at first she wouldn't take them, but after much convincing she agreed. Soon she will be the most fashionable 13 year old District 13 has ever seen.

I've also made Cora a skirt too, as well as a couple other articles of clothing; and unlike Karissa she had no problem accepting the gifts. I've just finished the skirt, and am looking at the finished garment with a sense of pride when I hear a knock at the door.

Furrowing my brow in confusion, I quickly get up and make my way to the door as another impatient knock sounds at the door. "I'm coming." I say as I open the door.

"Well it's 'bout time," comes a slurred, familiar voice as a hand pushes the door all the way open. I step back, surprised at the presence of the person in front of me.

"What are _you _doing _here_?" I ask annoyed, _well, _I think to myself dryly, _there goes my day. _Terence smirks at me and he promptly steps inside of _my _house and makes himself at home on _my_ couch.

I scoop up my sewing before Terence puts his feet up on top of it and I glare at my former mentor. They weren't supposed to get in until tomorrow! "Not exactly sure to be honest. Train got in about half an hour ago. Where did they _find _that lady at the front desk! I mean geez! Sure she looks great but she probably can't tell left from right. Apparently there was a misunderstanding about getting the rooms ready for my arrival, and they won't be ready until tomorrow. So, she _graciously_ pointed out the way to yours. Women are _terrible _with directions by the way; I walked around for ages trying to find this stupid apartment."

"_Oh yes, Mr. Silvanus, its right down there to the left a couple paces._" Terence makes and hand puppet as he mocks the lady at the front desk. I sigh and I return to my room to put away my sewing.

When I come back I find Terence sprawled out on my couch staring at the wall with a bored expression on his face. He watches me while I go into the kitchen and get myself a glass of water. I sit on a dark green chair next to the couch and take a sip. "Oh yeah, forgot to mention that I'll be staying here, with your family, until we leave for the Tour." I choke on my water, forgetting to swallow the liquid as I open my mouth to yell at him.

I cough and sputter in disbelief, "_What?!_"

"You heard me." He says, relishing in my frustration and anger. I stand up and start pacing the room, and throw my hands up angrily,

"Next I suppose Emalia is going to show up saying the same thing?"

"Oh no, no need to worry about that, she'll be staying with your ex down the hall." Terence says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

I stop dead in my tracks and lock my eyes with his; hopefully he can see the flames of anger showing through my eyes from the inside. "Don't _ever _call Tristan my ex again." I say and I stomp out the door, slamming it as I go.

I walk down the hallway and slump down on the ground with my back up against the wall. I cann_ot _believe that just happened! I put my head in my hands and groan, suddenly remembering that Karissa's party is tonight.

Well, so much for a fun party.

"You'll never believe who just showed up at the door—Lizzie? What's wrong?" I look up at Tristan, not bothering to pretend to smile. He sits down next to me instantly,

"Terence." I growl and Tristan nods, understanding my foul mood now.

"Funny you should say that… cause our _favorite _escort just showed up on my front door." I shake my head and smile at Tristan,

"Emalia is better than Terence! At least she _has _manners!" I lean my head against the wall and stare up at the ceiling. "Why did they have to come early? They weren't due until tomorrow! More importantly, why on earth do _they _have to stay with _us_?" Tristan doesn't try to interrupt my rant; he knows that I just need to blow off my steam sometimes before I can think more clearly about a situation.

After a moment, Tristan throws out a suggestion, "Who knows? Courtesy of the Capitol maybe? To keep us in check?" I turn my head to look him in the eye and I proceed to raise my eyebrow at him,

"Seriously? You think they sent Terence and Emalia here early to keep us in _check_?" I ask, highly doubting that the Capitol would send them to keep an eye on us.

If the Capitol wanted to keep an eye on us, they would send someone better than those two, although I admit Terence is totally spy material—dark personality, sneaky, and knows how get what he wants—he wouldn't let the Capitol tell him what to do after everything they did to him.

Emalia? As a _spy_? You have got to be kidding me. The thought is so absolutely ridiculous that I burst out laughing, leaving Tristan looking very confused. "S-sorry." I sputter out and after much effort on my part I manage to contain the laughing, so I can give Tristan the explanation he's waiting for.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about Emalia…as a spy." Tristan smiles his smile and laughs. My heart aches at the sound. Not too long ago that was what kept my world together—Tristan's laugh and his eyes—two of the most precious and beautiful things in the world to me.

Now my world revolves around trying to free a most likely imprisoned (or more likely highly guarded) guy with eyes as dark as a raven's feathers. I sigh, out loud, and Tristan looks at me, his expression growing more serious. "I'll be right back."

I look at him curiously as he stands up, "Where are you going?" I ask. Tristan gives me a half smile,

"Just wait here. I won't be long," with that he turns and briskly walks back to his apartment and disappears behind the door. I slump back down in my spot and think about everything and nothing at seemingly the same time. A couple minutes later Tristan reappears with a huge smile on his face.

"Okay." He says, his tone of voice reminds me of a little boy who is trying really hard to please someone, like a parent or teacher. Tristan smiles and I find myself instantly smiling back, finding his smile contagious.

"Oh just spit it out Tristan!" I say rather impatiently.

"Terence won't be staying with you." He says simply and I stare at him, kind of confused.

"What do you mean? He told me he was." I tell him and Tristan shushes me,

"Not anymore he's not. He's staying with my family now." I jump up and grab Tristan by the shoulders,

"You're serious?" I ask in disbelief. He laughs and grabs my hands,

"Yes, I've worked it all out. He will stay with us, but that means that Emalia has to stay with you, I don't think my mom could handle having those too under our roof for even one night. Sorry, I wish I could've—" Tristan is cut off by me throwing my arms around him and hugging him.

"Oh thank you Tristan! You don't know how much that means to me. You really are the best friend I could ever ask for. It's very likely that Terence and I would've killed each other by morning if we'd had to stay in such close quarters," I tell him meaningfully, leaning my head on his chest.

"What are best friends for Lizzie?" I hear him say quietly, his breath catching in his throat. I jump back, ashamed, realizing what I was doing. The gesture had become so natural during our time in the arena I didn't really give it a second thought before just now.

Flushed in embarrassment I look away, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize…" He interrupts me, his voice draws my eyes back to his green ones, which are highlighted strangely by a flickering light bulb hanging from a light fixture above us.

"It's okay." He says and I know that it wasn't, but I don't say anything else.

"So…I'll see you at the party tonight?" Tristan asks after a moment, I offer him a small smile,

"Yeah, it'll be fun. I'll see you then." He nods and I turn around and walk back to my apartment slowly, when I reach the door I stop and turn around and find him still standing in the same spot, watching my every move.

"Thank you, again, Tristan." I say just loud enough for him to hear, a flicker of a smile surfaces through the confusion rolling over his face. I shut the door quietly behind me and head straight for my room, ignoring Terence, and closing the door behind me.

The confusion on Tristan's face mirrors my own feelings. How can I long for two different people in such utterly and completely different ways?

**What did you guys think? The song "Like My Mother Does" by Lauren Alania was part of the inspiration for the talk between Lizzie and her mom in the beginning.**

**I hope this chapter wasn't too fluff-tastic, but I needed something kind of fluffy, I couldn't just jump right into the story with them on the Victory Tour (Well… I suppose I could've, but it wouldn't have made much sense.) I'm sorry if it seems like Lizzie has multiple personality disorder sometimes. I'm trying to make it my goal to make Lizzie's character more in depth—as my friend gabismore pointed out, Mace has wayyyyy more character than Lizzie, and he wasn't even originally meant to be a main character in the story outline. I will try my best to build her up, like I said earlier….. suggestions are always welcome **** I hope you all have a great week!**


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